Touch
by Henneth Laer
Summary: Riff/Magenta. Oneshot. Ever wondered why Riff is always wearing gloves?


**A/N: **The prompt for this was why we never get to see Riff's hands throughout the movie (even in his spacesuit he's with gloves). Here's my take on it.

**Disclaimer: **Richard O'Brien's brilliant mind owns all of this.

:::

As soon as Magenta entered the room, she noticed something was wrong. Terribly, _terribly _wrong.

Not wrong with the room in any way. It was still clad with spider webs, dusty and untidy; the petty excuse for a place for living that Frank had provided Riff with. Her brother didn't have any time for cleaning up, he was constantly at the lab and when he came back, she would be waiting for him. Every night.

But tonight was different. Tonight he was there before her, and just by seeing his stance, she knew something was wrong. Riff's whole body was trembling and she could hear shaky breaths coming out of his mouth. Those were signs that he was in pain, great pain.

Magenta silently came closer to him, gently putting her hand on his back. He jumped like a frightened animal, but his gaze relaxed slightly when he saw who it was. His blue eyes were watery and his teeth were clenched, which made Magenta's heart sink. Her brother rarely showed any signs of weakness, especially not in front of her. He lived with the idea that he was there to protect her, to keep her safe. Seeing Riff having a mental breakdown was not something she witnessed every day. Half of his body was still in the shadow, she could only see his face.

'What happened?' Magenta asked, but she already knew the answer.

'Frank happened.'

Of course, Frank. The source of all their troubles, of all their pain and misery, the Old Queen's only spoiled brat that they were forced to endure every single day.

'Let me see.' She demanded.

'No.'

'Riff, don't be stupid. I have to help you.'

The corners of his mouth twitched in a smile – it was the only thing close to a smile that her brother could manage nowadays. But it didn't reach his eyes. It was more of an expression of pity than one of happiness. Magenta wouldn't handle him pitying himself.

'Come on, please.'

'It's useless.' His voice cracked. 'I'm useless.'

'Don't you say that.' She put her palm to his face and Riff leaned into the touch. 'Now, let me see. I can help.'

He didn't move, so she lit the candelabra that stood next to the bed herself. As the candles flickered to life, light fell on her brother's form. At first, Magenta didn't notice anything wrong. His face and body seemed okay. And then she lowered her gaze. A gasp came out of her mouth before she could contain it.

'I told you.' He almost laughed grimly.

The skin on his hands, just between his wrists and his knuckles had been severely scarred. From what Magenta could see, it was still smoking lightly, which could only mean it had been burnt. There were bloody craters on his skin, it looked like it had started to melt away from his bones but then had decided to stop in mid-process. Riff's whole body was still shaking violently and he hissed when she reached out a hand.

'What –'

'Acid,' her brother said, hands trembling convulsively. 'our dearest Frank spilled on me it while I was working. "Accidentally", he said.'

Magenta touched his forearm, yet again disgusted and astonished at their master's cruelty. They were both used to the whip coming down their backs, the burning pain of the wounds that lasted for a week. But this … Frank had never resorted to such means before. It would leave Riff's skin scarred for the rest of his life.

'It could be worse,' her brother told her. 'He could have spilt it in my face.'

'That doesn't make him less of a monster.' Magenta spat, but controlled her anger, she knew she shouldn't direct it at Riff, but sometimes she couldn't help her temper. 'Why would he do that?'

'Apparently, I made a mistake while forming the creature's liver.'

She was furious, but she swallowed her emotions down. Not now. Later, no matter when, whether it will be months or years, they would avenge him. For everything that he has put them through. Now, she had to take care of her brother. Without saying a word, Magenta took out the medical supplies they had secretly bought on their last trip to town out of the nearby drawer. She knew they would be there – nowadays, they'd use them much more often than they'd like to.

Riff's breath hitched and he cried out in pain, when his sister took to bandaging his wounded hands. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, _she kept repeating. She could feel her own tears forming into her eyes, but she blinked them back, not trying to distract herself from what she was doing. When his hands were finally taken care for, he took a sigh of relief. Magenta could only hope that no major muscles were damaged.

'Thank you.' He whispered and she raised herself to his level to plant a soft, reassuring kiss on his lips. Riff leaned into it, wrapping his arms around her, as she took notice not to touch or hurt his wounds in any way. Then an idea came to her.

'Here, take these.'

She took off the fingerless gloves she was always wearing and slipped it on his hands. They were something Magenta had kept from Transsexual – made from a special protective material. She didn't know if they'd be effective against everything that could come to Furter's sick imagination of torture, but at least she was hoping they'd help her brother just a bit.

'But –' he tried to complain.

'Don't 'but' me. They'll serve you a better purpose than they do me. Just … keep safe, okay?' she planted another kiss on his lips, not surprised to feel a single tear rolling down her cheek. 'I don't know what I'd do if I lost you.'

Riff wiped the tear away with his gloved hand and sensually kissed away the trail it had left.

'You won't.'

Somehow, she knew he wasn't lying. She hoped so.


End file.
